


Sam's Lie

by Aloha_Fox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean spanks Sam, Discipline, Gen, Language cause in my world the Winchesters cuss, Spanking, Whipping, adult dean spanking adult sam, belt, episode 12x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloha_Fox/pseuds/Aloha_Fox
Summary: Following the events of 12x15, Sam decides to come clean about a lie he's been hiding from Dean.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Sam's Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mandancie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandancie/gifts).



> This is based off the episode 12x15 Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell...SO SPOILERS FOR THIS EPISODE!
> 
> Also, I'd like to dedicate this and give a shoutout to mandancie who was awesomesauce on a cracker and got my ass in gear to write this! This is my first time writing a story where an adult is spanked (popped my cherry! woo!) and I was super nervous. She helped me pick out an episode and encouraged me on! So thank that chick right there :)
> 
> Also stated, this is my first discipline fic where an adult is being spanked, so I'm nervous. I've read so many where one of the grown up boys were punished and some of them weren't realistic enough for me...no slammin' anybody! To each his own!...but yeah. Anyways, I'm sure you're tired of reading my author's note..lol. Carry on.

Sam’s phone buzzing in his hand is what got his brother’s attention.

“Mm, is that your computer talking to you again?” Dean asks.

Glancing at his vibrating phone **_**Frodo**_** flashed across the screen, which of course was Mick. _The British Men of Letters_ Mick. He quickly dismissed the call before looking up at his brother. “Uh…no. Um…it’s, uh…Mick Davies.”

“What?”

_Here goes,_ Sam thinks. “Dean…I don’t have a computer program feeding me cases. I-I, uh…Gwen? Every job we’ve worked in the last two weeks?” He inhales deeply to continue. “They’ve come from the British Men of Letters.”

Dean’s eyes narrow at Sam. “Really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell you ‘cause I know how much you hate them.” Sam answered as he tried his best not to squirm.

Dean shakes his head and gestures between the two of them. “No, we hate them. Us. Together.”

“I-I get that. Yeah, I do. But -- but...” Sam sighes. “Dean, because of Mick and his guys, the Alpha Vampire is dead. They get results. I don’t like them either, but -- but if -- if we can save people, then it..” Sam sighs again. “Either way, I-I shouldn’t have lied to you. And…I’m sorry, man. I-I…”

“Well, ok.”

“Ok?” Sam asks surprised.

Dean shifts around throwing his hand out to the side. “What do you want me to say? Do I like it? No. Do I trust them? Hell no. But you’re right. We work with people we don’t trust all the time. I mean, hell, I just Liam Needson’d it up with Crowley. So if you wanna give this a shot, then…” Dean scoffs shaking his head. “Fine. But the minute-- and I mean the second-- something feels off, we bail.”

“Yeah. Of course. Deal.” Sam answers quickly and then looks down as his phone vibrates again. “It’s Mick.”

“Pick it up.”

Sam slides his finger over the screen and puts the phone up to his ear. “This is Sam.”

After getting off the phone with Mick, Sam turned to find his brother looking at him expectantly.

“Mick has another case lined up for us in Eugene, Oregon. Apparently it’s a werewolf thing.”

Dean nods his head. “We’ll leave early in the AM.”

“Great, I’m gonna hit the sack.” Sam smiled as he turned to do just that. He only got a few steps before he stopped immediately at his brother’s voice.

“Sam.” It was the _tone_. Sam had grown up with it, heard it all his life, and he knew it was full of warning.

He turned to see Dean staring at him with his arms crossed tightly over his chest with that _look_ that meant trouble for Sam. “Dean?”

“You and I need to take care of some business.” Dean answered as he gestured between the two of them.

Sam’s palms broke out in a sweat and although he was a pretty smart dude who could complete the _New York Times_ Saturday crossword with no problems, he huffed dumbly. “Huh?”

“You lied to me.” Dean growled out. “ _Again._ ”

_Oh shit_

“Yeah, I--uh, I know.” Sam stammered out and then felt all of five years old as he shuffled his feet slightly. “I know it was wrong but I said I was sorry, man. I won’t do it again, ok?”

Hoping-- _please God, or Chuck, or fucking whoever --_ that promise would appease his brother, Sam quickly pivoted on his foot to flee to his room, because the glare that he was getting from his brother? That never meant anything good for him.

“Samuel!” Dean barked.

Even at thirty-four years old, Dean using his full name made him stop whatever he was doing and take fucking notice. Sam turned, wide eyed, to face his irate older brother and put his hands up to placate.

“Listen, Dean-”

“No, you listen,” Dean snapped, jabbing a finger in his younger brother’s direction. “I’m tired of being fuckin’ lied to, Sam. I mean, finding out that mom’s been lyin’ to us for months was a goddamn low blow, but you? We’ve had this discussion many times before, haven’t we?”

Even though Sam was a grown ass man and a badass hunter that demons feared, he squirmed at the mention of past _discussions_ between himself and Dean. His mind went back to last year when he had been infected by Amara’s fog, when he had lied to Dean. At the time telling Dean he was fine instead of the truth seemed to be the better option. A few weeks later sitting in the Impala in the dark with Dean he confessed that he had been infected and his brother wasn’t to happy. After they had talked about Sam’s visions, or whatever you wanted to all call them, Dean had ordered him out of the car. Right there on the side of the dark road his brother whipped his ass so hard Sam didn’t think he would be able to sit down for a week.

Unfortunately it hadn’t been the first time Dean had to discipline Sam over lying. And yeah, Sam was a grown man, thirty-three years old the last time, and it was probably weird but Dean had always been so much more than just his older brother; a mother, a father, and most of all, a protector. Dean didn’t just go around spanking Sam for every little infraction, no, only when Sam screwed up so big that a yelling match between them couldn’t smooth things over, or a punch to the face couldn’t absolve anger and guilt, did Dean bring out his belt. Their dynamic was a little off from the norm but it worked for them. So yeah, they’ve been down this road before.

Sam nodded his head at his brother’s question without looking at Dean. “Yeah, we have.” he murmured.

“Mhmm.” Dean agreed dropping his hands to his belt buckle. “I’m pretty sure I promised you another whippin’ if you lied to me again, little brother.”

Sam broke out in a sweat and his heart rate doubled as he watched his brother get his belt buckle undone and slip the strip of leather he was so acquainted with from his jeans.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit_

Dean doubled the black belt over, got a good grip on it and then let it hang by his leg as he regarded Sam. The kid looked nervous.

“Dean, c’mon, man,” Sam pleaded. “we don’t have to do this. The only reason I lied is because I knew how pissed you’d be and I wanted to see if they were all talk or if they could back it up.”

“You’re damn right I’m pissed!” Dean shouted. “They tortured you, Sam! Do you not remember the five busted ribs? Or how they burnt the skin off your foot? The stab wounds? Or how about the mind fuck, huh, Sam? ‘Cause that was pleasant, right?”

“Of course I remember, Dean!” Sam shouted back. “But a world without monsters? How could I not check into that? How could _we_ not check into that?”

“I get that, Sam, and I agreed we’d work with the douchebags, but it’s never been ok to lie to me.” Dean’s green eyes sparkled with anger as he motioned towards to table he was standing beside. “Get your ass over here.”

And just for a moment Sam pulled out his bitchface and crossed his arms across his chest in a clear sign that he wasn’t budging.

“Sam,” Dean sighed as he used the hand that wasn’t holding the belt to rub down his face. “this is happening. And so help me, if I have to wrestle your 6’4” sasquatch ass over this table it’s gonna be so much worse.”

Sam faltered at the threat, no the _promise_ , because the one time that Sam had physically fought his brother over a spanking he had still got his ass handed to him after Dean got him subdued, but the worst part? Dean had made him sit on his throbbing ass all fucking day and then before they went to bed decided to relight the fire with his hand.

“I think I’m too old for this, Dean.” Sam tried feebly, biting his bottom lip.

Dean snorted. “I don’t give a shit how old you are, Sam, so that ain’t gonna work here.”

“Right.” Sam sighed resting his hands on his hips.

“Right.” Dean mirrored and shifted making the belt buckle clink in his hand. “C’mon, get over here and bend over the table.”

Dean watched as his younger brother hesitated, watched as slight panic ran across his features before settling on acceptance. Sam made his way over to him and lowered his tall frame so he was just about bent in half over the table, resting on his forearms and clasping his hands together so he didn’t inevitably reach back. 

“Good choice, dude.” Dean complimented quietly. The only response was a huff behind a curtain of hair.

Sam felt Dean shift behind him and then a moment later he jerked and grunted at the first lash across the middle of his ass. His brother didn’t give him too much processing time between each searing blow.

_Jesus Christ, Dean was trying to kill him._

“Ah-- shit, Dean!” Sam hissed at a particularly hard blow.

The snap of leather was loud throughout the room but Sam tried to block it out so he could concentrate on his breathing. This was bad, usually Dean worked him up to full force hits but he was already swinging like fucking Babe Ruth and they’ve only just started.

If anybody was watching what was going on they would surely accuse Dean of abuse; he was striking his brother so hard he had to take a small step into it and put some shoulder in his swing. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the situation, the Winchesters had an incredibly high pain tolerance and if a spanking was going to get through to Sam, Dean damn near had to be a bastard and use most of his strength to get the job done.

Sam shifted his feet and hissed through each _thwack_ which seemed to go on forever, nevermind trying to keep count. No matter how many times he’d been through this or how many times he told himself he’d get through it stoically, it never happened. Without even thinking about it, Sam swayed his ass to get it out of the line of fire making the belt smack into the table he was leaning over.

“Sam.” Dean warned, his voice coming out breathless from exertion.

“Ju--just need a minute.” Sam panted into the table. “Fuckin’ hurts.” 

Dean nodded, cause yeah, he knew all about that. “We gotta finish this, Sammy.” He said after letting his brother get his breathing under control. Dean hooked his finger in the belt loop on Sam’s jeans and tugged him back over. “Need you to go ahead and drop your jeans.”

Sam groaned as he stood up, the skin of his ass pulling tight and burning. He took a deep breath while his hands found his belt to undo it. Getting that done he unbuttoned and unzipped, then with shaking hands shucked his jeans just below his ass.

Thankfully, Dean never spanked him bare, that was all John Winchester’s MO. Not that Sam had a problem with his brother seeing his naked butt, they’ve seen each others plenty of times; close quarters, varying injuries, skinny dipping on hot summers days when they were younger, Sam accidently walking in on his brother fucking some chick-- which he needed brain bleach for--, but there was something humiliating about presenting your bare ass for punishment and Sam hated it. He didn’t see any reason why embarrassment had to be any part of the equation. Besides, Dean told him numerous times he had no intentions of seeing his younger brother’s junk, thank you very much.

“C’mon, Sam, back over the table.” Dean ordered and readjusted the belt in his hand.

Seeing his brother hesitate, not out of defiance but knowledge the pain was about to get worse, Dean put his hand between Sam’s shoulder blades and pushed him down over the table. After Sam situated himself back to his original position with his forearms on the table, Dean raised his arm, struck Sam hard across his black boxer-briefs.

Sam grunted and rocked forward on the table, the pain so much worse without the protection of the thicker denim of his jeans. Ten blows in and Sam couldn’t hold the yelps in anymore. Each time the belt landed a noise burst out of his throat, his hips hit the table from the force and all Sam could do was hold on for the horrible _horrible_ ride.

“Dean-- _Dean_ , please.” Sam sputtered out, spittle flying onto the table as a huff was forced from his mouth. He readjusted his hands so he was using his shaking arms to support his body weight, hoping the new position would alleviate some of the pain. “I’m so,-- _fuck --_ so sorry for lyin’ to you.”

“You’re always sorry, Samuel, but we seem to have this particular conversation at least twice a year.” Dean answered without even stopping the searing stripes. “You know I hate blistering your ass, but I’ll do it every time you fuckin’ LIE. TO. ME.” the last three words accompanied by an even harder _thwack_.

“Ah! Goddamn it!” Sam yelled out and then slammed his hand down on the table out of pure misery.

Over the next twenty hits Sam hissed, grunted, shuffled his feet and finally, _finally_ the first tear fell. After the initial sob that seemed to give his body permission to leak like Niagra Falls. He dropped his head between his shoulders so he could cry, tears and sweat dripping from his nose onto the table.

“I’m so sorry.” Sam cried.

Dean stopped swinging the belt and sighed heavily. “I know you are, Sammy. We’re almost done.” With that Dean jerked his brother’s jeans down so his naked thighs were exposed.

“No!” Sam shouted and attempted to grab his jeans to pull them back up. There was a small wrestling match before Dean got Sam back down over the table.

“Don’t fight me, Sam.” Dean barked as he wrapped his hand around the back of his brother’s neck to hold him down. “This ain’t nothin’ new. You know how this works.”

“Don’t!” Sam begged through a tear choked throat. “I won’t lie to you again. Please don’t do this!”

“We both know that ain’t true.” Dean snorted. “If you think it’s worth it you’ll lie again, but if I beat your ass good enough it’ll at least be a good while before you do it again. Right?” When he didn’t get an answer he tightened his hold on Sam’s neck. “Right, Sam?”

“Right.” Sam answered with a sniff.

“Now, if I let your neck go can we get through the rest of this or you gonna fight me some more?”

Sam sadly shook his head in Dean’s grip. “I won’t fight.”

“Alright then,” Dean exhaled gratefully as he let Sam’s neck go and adjusted his hold on the belt to make sure the buckle was firmly tucked into his hand. “Hold on tight.” he warned and then raised his arm over his shoulder.

Sam clenched his ass as he heard the belt whistle and then yelled loudly when it landed directly over his exposed thighs. This was always the end of the punishment if he fucked up major; fifteen of the hardest strokes Dean could muster without breaking the skin. He couldn’t hold still, and bless him, Dean didn’t expect him to.

Sam shifted his hips to the side and raised up on his toes as his brother expertly hit his target every time. If he thought his ass was on fire surely the skin on his thighs was going to melt off. Even though it was the hardest that Dean hit him it was also faster which meant that it was thankfully over quickly.

Dean laid his belt on the table and then rubbed his sobbing brother’s back. After a minute Sam’s sobs died down and he stood up with a wince reaching down for his jeans. Getting his clothes situated Sam stood with his head down, occasionally wiping tears from his face. Dean couldn’t stand back and watch it anymore so he wrapped his hand around Sam’s neck and tugged him closer.

“C’mere, dude.” Dean sighed as Sam laid his head on his shoulder. “It’s ok, little brother, let it out.” and Sam did with a fresh wave of silent tears.

They stood like that for a few minutes, Sam soaking up all the love they never talked about out loud. John had whipped their asses plenty of times but never offered comfort afterwards. The tight grip of his brother’s arms, that was all Dean, the Dean he knew that loved him more than anything else in life. The same guy that was his mother, father, brother and protector.

Maybe he should be mad at his brother for punishing him like a kid, though Dean never hit him as hard when he was younger, but he wasn’t. This is what he knew and accepted and it’s how Sam knew he was cared for. He’d take a tanned ass every day as long as his brother was there to put him back together afterwards.

And he knew that his brother would always be there to catch him when he fell and that’s all that really mattered to Sam Winchester.

**Author's Note:**

> Had two songs on loop while I was writing this. I think you should give them a listen;  
> My Name is Human by Highly Suspect  
> Wayside by Birds of Tokyo


End file.
